


The Sordid Legacy of Kurt and Blaine Ander-Hummel

by fhartz91



Series: Klaine Valentines Challenge 2018 [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 11:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: Brittany buys Kurt and Blaine a Legacy Box - a time capsule to convert all of their favorite pictures and videos to DVD. But every time Kurt tries to get Blaine to work on it with him, Blaine finds something else to do, and Kurt begins to feel like Blaine doesn't want to reminisce with him. Blaine decides to make it up to Kurt by putting the Legacy Box together by himself. It comes out better, and a bit more surprising, than Kurt could ever dream.Unfortunately, they may now have to change their identities and leave the country.





	The Sordid Legacy of Kurt and Blaine Ander-Hummel

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write, written for the Klaine Valentine's Challenge prompt 'Something About the Way You Look Tonight'.

_Riiip_ …

Blaine flinches, mumbles nonsense, flips over in bed.

 _Rip-riiiip_ …

Blaine groans. He grabs his pillow and holds it over his head, clamping the sides down at his ears.

 _Riiip-riiip-riiiiiipppp_ …

Blaine tosses again and again, wrapping himself tightly in his comforter like a spring roll - not at all what he was aiming to accomplish.

_Rip-rip-rip-riiiiipppppp … rip-rip …_

He rolls back in the opposite direction, whimpering from lack of sleep.

 _Riiiiiiipppppppppp_ …

It’s then that he realizes, having covered the entire width of their mattress during his minor tantrum, that his husband isn’t in bed with him, and that _he_ may actually be the source of that terrible noise.

“Kurt? Honey?” Blaine grumbles amidst the clamor of boxes being torn open, clear packing tape peeled away slowly, then quickly, as Kurt tries to go for quiet but eventually gives up. “What are ( _yawn_ ) … what are you doing?” Blaine opens his eyes, his corneas burning as he pries his sticky lids apart. “It’s like …” He peeks over at his phone beside his pillow and  _ughs_  loudly “… four thirty in the morning!”

“I am busy ( _rip_!) searching for memories ( _rip-rip_!) to put into our time capsule,” Kurt replies, each word of his twelve word sentence seasoned with a different degree of sarcasm and frustration.

“Time capsule?” Blaine flips onto his back, his head splitting when a foot of tape is pried from the seam of another box. “What are you … what are you talking about?”

“The … time … capsule,” Kurt repeats with dramatic emphasis, as if that will jog Blaine’s memory.

“O _kay_ , I got that part.” Blaine rises to a sitting position, pulling the blankets up with him in defiance of waking up, since that might lead to getting out of bed and getting dressed. But Blaine has to think hard to remember what Kurt’s talking about, and with that struggle for clarity comes an unwanted level of consciousness. “Oh! Do you mean that Legacy Box thing Brittany and Santana gave us for Christmas?”

“Yes.” _Riiiippppp_ … “Well, technically, Brittany gave it to us. Santana gave us Pina Colada flavored edible underwear.” 

Kurt tears off another round of tape, splitting the air with a sound reminiscent of dull nails raking down a dusty blackboard. Blaine throws his left hand to his ear, the right hand too asleep to cover the other one. He looks at the mass of photographs covering the floor in a ring around Kurt’s crossed legs, piles neatly sorted using a system that only Kurt would understand.

There’s so many of them. He must have been awake for a while.

“Kurt? Love? Do you _have_ to do that right now?”

“Yes,” Kurt says. “I  _do_  have to do this right now, because we were _supposed_ to send this off _weeks_ ago. You _promised_ you’d do it with me, but every time I bring it up, you mysteriously have something else you have to do first, and we never get around to it.”

“But I thought you said this was hipster and unnecessary considering our extensive collection of scrapbooks.”

“True, but Brittany bought it for us specially. It’s the first present she’s ever gotten us that makes sense. Plus, we promised her we’d show it to them when they come back from vacation in a few weeks.”

“So?” Blaine yawns, hoping that there’s coffee in his future since he doesn’t see himself going back to sleep.

“ _So_ , I don’t want to disappoint her. She’s one of our oldest friends, and I care about her feelings.”

Blaine nods, getting a slight chill from the tone in Kurt’s voice. “I have a suspicion that this isn’t just about  _Brittany’s_  feelings.”

Kurt reaches for another box, but Blaine leaps out of bed and heads him off before he can do any more ripping.

“Why don’t you take five and tell me what this is all about.”

Kurt toys with the tape on the box, picking at the loose edge, debating whether or not it’s worth discussing. This Legacy Box thing  _is_  kind of inane. Blaine is right – Kurt did say so himself.

But Kurt _does_ have feelings about this, and they’ve been bothering him for a while.

“I guess what I don’t understand is _why_ you don’t want to do this Legacy Box thing with me.”

“It just seems so impersonal,” Blaine explains.

“It’s not all that different from scrapbooking.”

“And I _love_ scrapbooking with you!” Blaine takes Kurt’s hand in his since Kurt’s constant picking at that strip of tape is making Blaine nervous that he’ll yank it off. “Choosing flair together, cropping photographs, coming up with cutesy captions. With this Legacy Box, you gather up all your photographs and movies, and you send them off to some stranger to be scanned onto a DVD. And that’s it. You get it back, and then you watch it. Most of the fun is gone; done by someone else.”

“But why does that matter? We haven’t made a scrapbook together in a long time,” Kurt says, sadly pulling his hand away. “We used to work on one every weekend. Then it became every other weekend. Then once a month. The last one I worked on by myself. For your opening night performing _Hedwig_. Remember?”

“I’m … I’m so sorry, Kurt. I didn’t realize ...” Blaine grabs Kurt’s hand back before his fingers can reach the tape. “I guess I’ve been so busy lately, it slipped my mind. I didn’t realize ...”

“I understand that. And I understand that it’s not the most important thing we do together. But it was a small part of what made us _us_. And I know you’re busy. I’m busy, too. During Fashion Week, we barely even talked to one another. That’s why I thought this was an equitable solution. All we’d have to do is decide what pictures we want to include and then send them away. I thought we could make a date of it. I’m not asking you for a lifelong Legacy Box commitment or anything.” Kurt picks up the box in front of him and moves it off to the side, losing the steam he had when he first popped up in bed and remembered that they were on a deadline. “I personally would have never bought this myself. But since we have it, it might be nice to sit down with a glass of wine and reminisce, talk about the things we’ve enjoyed so far, all the things we hope to do for the future …”

“I didn’t know this meant so much to you,” Blaine admits, tugging Kurt’s hand until he gets the hint and climbs into his lap. “I know I’ve been a big goober about this, and I’m sorry. But don’t worry. I am fully committed to helping you finish this Legacy Box.”

Kurt looks at Blaine with a tentative smile. “You are?”

“A-ha. In fact, if you don’t mind, I would like to show you just how much by finishing it up myself.”

“Really?”

“Yup. So, I’ll make a deal with you – put this on the back burner for now, come to bed, and tomorrow I’ll finish the whole thing, pack it up, and send it on its merry way. Deal?”

“Deal!”

“Great! Now, you’re going to have to hold me while we sleep so I don’t have nightmares about you ripping any more tape.”

***

“So” – Brittany rushes into the Ander-Hummel house, vibrating with excitement – “how did it turn out?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, skeptical but equally as excited. “Blaine had it sent to the theater. I haven’t even seen it yet.”

“Well, we’re not going to watch the _whole_ thing,” Blaine says, shutting the door behind their guests. “We put a lot of stuff on it. It runs pretty long. I wouldn’t want to bore you both with our fairy tale love affair.”

“How very considerate of you,” Santana says dryly, sitting on the sofa next to her wife and taking a glass of wine from Kurt. “Just let’s get this started. I’ve been constipated for weeks eating out of hotel rooms. I’m hoping this’ll do the trick - get things moving again.”

Blaine ignores her remark and heads for his office to retrieve the Legacy Box. Kurt stares at his friend in disgust.

“Why would anyone ever want to know that?” he asks, rethinking his seating choice and picking the loveseat opposite the sofa.

“You wouldn’t.” Santana winks. “That’s why I said it.”

“Okay ladies and gentleman.” Blaine sets the box down on the coffee table in front of Kurt. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Blaine rips off the packing tape and opens the box. Inside, hidden amongst a slew of navy blue raffia, sits a smaller box, narrow and brown, with the words  _This is your legacy!_  written in blue script on the lid. Blaine lifts that box out, puts it beside the first, and shimmies it open. There’s only two items inside this box - a DVD in a clear jewel case, and a thumb drive, both lodged inside specially fitted grooves. Blaine plucks out the drive and hands it to Kurt.

“Here you go. For your own personal viewing pleasure.”

Kurt takes it, looking the little black drive over before sticking it in his pocket for safe keeping. “Thank you very much.”

Blaine pulls out the DVD, takes it from its case, and puts it into their Blu-ray player. He takes a seat beside his husband, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“Now have a glass of wine” – Blaine pours a glass of the chilled Chardonnay Kurt’s been serving to their guests and hands it to him – “and let’s press play, shall we?”

“Let’s.”

The Blu-ray player switches on, the word PLAY showing in bold blue letters. The TV screen goes black and the song  _Love Changes Everything_  starts to play as the words  _Legacy Box presents Kurt and Blaine Ander-Hummel – Ten Years and Counting_  appear on the screen. Santana rolls her eyes, makes a remark about another cheesy Andrew Lloyd Webber love song, but Kurt’s open wide.

“Oh my God,” he says behind a soft chuckle. “I can’t believe … did you pick that song?”

“A-ha,” Blaine says, watching Kurt carefully. “Turns out if you upgrade to the premium package, you can personalize your DVD. So, that’s what I did.”

“I---I don’t get it,” Brittany says. “Is that song important or something?”

When Kurt doesn’t comment, eyes glued to the screen as the title dissolves, Blaine answers for him.

“Contrary to popular belief, that proposal on the Dalton staircase isn’t the last time I sang to Kurt in a public place.”

“Really?” Brittany says, heart eyes aglow.

“Yeah,” Kurt replies.

“Or the most successful,” Blaine adds, his cheeks a little pinker.

“What?” Santana snickers. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Kurt says with a wave of his hand. “It took me most of the afternoon to bail him out of jail …” He turns to Blaine with tears in his eyes “… but it’s still an _amazing_ memory.”

“Don’t start crying yet, love.” Blaine lifts a finger and nudges Kurt’s cheek, directing his gaze back towards the screen. “We’re not even up to the first photograph yet.”

It’s not one picture that comes on screen, but two. Baby pictures – on the left, Kurt, and on the right, Blaine.

“Awww,” Santana and Brittany say in unison.

“Oh my God!” Brittany squeals. “You guys were the cutest babies!”

“Yeah,” Santana agrees. “Too bad you grew up to be mutants.” And even though Blaine scowls at her for that remark, it didn’t sound like she meant it.

Set after set of pictures scrolls by, year by year of their lives, each duo chosen as a perfect parallel of Kurt and Blaine’s formative years – Christmases with their parents, both boys baking with their mothers, both boys fixing a car with their fathers, learning to ride a bike, both of them dancing (Kurt ballet, Blaine jazz), singing in show choir, performing in school musicals.

“Did they … did the company do that?” Kurt asks. “Sort the photographs together like this?”

“Nope.” Blaine takes Kurt’s glass of wine out of his hand when it starts to shake. “I made the sets. They just transferred them to the video.”

 _Love Changes Everything_  switches to  _Something About the Way You Look Tonight_ as the first of their wedding pictures comes on the screen.

“That’s … that’s the song we made love to … the first time.” Kurt turns awe-filled eyes on his husband.

“What? Did you think I wouldn’t remember?” Blaine smiles, shy to be admitting this in front of present company. “That night is engraved in every corner of my memory. There isn’t an inch of it I’ve forgotten.”

“Wanky,” Santana says, taking a sip from her glass.

“Santana!” Brittany scolds her wife with a gentle tap on her knee while Santana giggles into her wine.

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t … I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything.” Blaine pulls his husband close and kisses him on the forehead. “This was important to you, and you’re important to me. I wanted to show you how much.”

“I …” Kurt raises a hand to his face when he feels his nose begin to run. Blaine searches his pocket for a napkin, but he doesn’t have one. “I need to get a tissue,” Kurt says, standing from the couch and walking toward the kitchen. Blaine puts the video on pause, watching his husband go with a satisfied smile.

“You done good, hobbit,” Santana says, raising her glass of wine to Blaine in a toast. “You done good.”

“Thank you,” he says, returning the gesture.

Blaine hears Kurt blow his nose and smiles. Santana was right. He was worried when he took this on that he might screw it up, that it might not be what Kurt was hoping for, but he hit it out of the park this time.

“Come on, love! There’s a few more pictures I want to show you before …” Blaine turns and catches Kurt fiddling with his laptop, open on the dining room table. He gets a peek at the screen, a sent email notification, and his face turns sheet white.

“Uh … Kurt” - Blaine chuckles, hoping his husband didn’t do what he thinks he did - “what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Kurt sniffles. “I was just … it’s _so_ beautiful and … I couldn’t help myself.” Kurt ejects the thumb drive and shows it to Blaine. “I sent it to a few people. I hope you don’t mind.”

“A few people?” Blaine swallows hard. “Wh-what do you mean, a _few_ people?”

“Oh, you know - my dad, Carole, your parents, your brother, the New Directions, the Warblers, Isabelle, Chase …” Kurt watches Blaine’s eyes grow to half the size of his face and he frowns. “I get the feeling I did something wrong.”

“Is there any way you might be able to  _un_ -send it?”

“That’s a silly question.” Without even knowing _why_ Blaine looks mortified, a cauldron of dread churns inside Kurt’s stomach. “W---why? What’s wrong?”

“Um … I think  _that’s_  what’s wrong.”

Both men look at Santana, and not the TV. She’s pointing the remote at the screen, having fast forwarded to a part in the video that had been only minutes away. The image starts before the sound, but suddenly they hear moaning – distinctly  _Kurt_  moaning … moaning and, in some cases, screaming, “Blaine! Yes! Oh, God! Just like that! Give it to me! Harder! Oh, God!”

“Oh God!” Kurt repeats. He turns towards the screen slowly, horror shining in his eyes, but when he finally sees it, he throws a hand over his stopped heart. “Blaine! You … you had our  _sex tape_  put on the video?”

“It … it was going to be a surprise! Just for us!” Blaine argues, launching for the remote that Santana holds out of reach. At the rate he’s going, he’ll have to vault over the coffee table to get it, and he’s prepared to do just that. “ _Our_ time capsule! _Our_ legacy! I didn’t think you were going to email it to everyone we know! In fact, I was going to stop it in time so Brittany and Santana didn’t see it, either, but …”

“You were going to cut us out of the fun?” Santana huffs, holding the remote behind her head. “That’s _rude_.”

Kurt has sense enough to walk around the back of the sofa, grab the remote out of Santana’s hand, and switches off the DVD. With the movie turned off and Kurt’s cries of ecstasy now silent, they hear the faint sound of music coming from Kurt’s pocket. He reaches in with a frantic hand and pulls out his phone. He looks at the screen. His face goes solid marble white, a perfect match to Blaine’s sickly pallor.

“It’s my dad!” Kurt exclaims.

“Well, that was quick,” Santana remarks, finishing off her wine.

“Wh-wh-what am I … what am I going to do!?” Kurt yells, staring at his phone as if it’s about to bite him.

“It’s … it’s alright,” Blaine says, trying to be the voice of calm for his distraught husband. “J---just hold on. I’ll take care of it.” Blaine grabs Kurt’s phone and walks with it to the kitchen. Kurt doesn’t follow him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look at the kitchen for fear that he might hear a smidgen of their conversation. Blaine returns a few minutes later, but without Kurt’s phone. He sits on the loveseat and grabs the bottle of wine. The three people in the living room watch him, confused, waiting for word of a resolution.

“Well, w-what did you tell him?” Kurt asks, his heart lodged so far up his throat he can probably touch it with his finger.

“Tell him? Uh …” Blaine looks from face to face, all expecting an answer. He takes a big swig from the bottle. “I---I didn’t tell him anything."

“So … you just let him yell at you, then? You didn’t defend yourself? Or  _me_?” Kurt asks. “What did he say?”

“I didn’t answer it.” Blaine sits on the sofa cushion but doesn’t relax into it, one leg crossed over his knee, bouncing madly, as he gulps down the rest of the wine. “Sorry, but … I chickened out. I couldn’t do it.”

“Then what _did_ you do?”

Blaine pulls off the empty bottle, puts it down on the floor, and grabs a second one that’s been sweating profusely on the coffee table … the same way Blaine is sweating now. “I put your phone in the freezer. Mine, too.” He stabs the cork with a corkscrew, twists it in, then pulls it out, intent on drinking the bulk of this bottle as well. “That way we can act like we didn’t know he called until  _after_  we’ve left the country.”

 


End file.
